Thank you, Homelander

Madelyn then revealed some of Vought International's confidential secrets to Ron.

For instance, the existence of Compound V.

There were no chosen people or naturally born superhumans—everyone became superhuman by being injected with Compound V as infants.

The so-called superheroes were actually a massive scam fooling the public.

All superheroes were selected as babies, injected with Compound V, signed into confidentiality agreements with their families, and once they awakened suitable abilities, they were recruited into the company.

If news broke that countless infants were being used as test subjects, it would cause worldwide uproar.

But Ron's face remained cold, his heart utterly unmoved.

He had long known Vought's secrets about superheroes and Compound V.

What Madelyn said next was something new.

"Not everyone awakens a useful ability, and not everyone grows up with a personality suited to being one of Vought's superheroes.

Whenever that happens, we need to take certain measures."

Madelyn, Vought's vice president, chuckled lightly, a cruel darkness and bloodshed hidden beneath her smile.

Vought couldn't constantly monitor every family worldwide that had received Compound V injections, controlling their beliefs and growth.

But they could wait until someone blind enough jumped out to 'cause trouble' for Vought, then send people to deal with the problem on the spot, easily covering everything up afterward with their immense power.

"For example, this case happened yesterday in New York."

She pulled out several photos and laid them on the table.

Fully armed gangsters with guns, their bodies looking like they'd been attacked by a wild animal—faces torn apart, eyes gouged out, the scene brutal and bloody.

"A superhuman did this."

He glanced at it. Ordinary people didn't have that kind of strength. The environment in the corpse photos reminded him of a character from the original story.

Kimiko Miyashiro from The Boys.

"Originally, Vought didn't notice this at first. It was covered up early by A-Train, who works for Homelander.

My influence has made the plot different again."

"Vought's superheroes must give the public an endless sense of security—every one of them an unbeatable superhuman. Only then can the company's stock price stay stable."

Madelyn said seriously.

"So the world can only ever have superheroes, never supervillains."

He finished Madelyn's unfinished sentence with amusement.

Petty thieves and robbers couldn't beat superheroes—it was a fight with no suspense.

But a supervillain represented the possibility of defeating a superhero, which would be bad for Vought's stock price.

"Ron, the company wants you to handle this."

"Me?"

He rubbed his chin, feeling something was off.

Vought had always had Black Noir handle this kind of thing. Why come to him?

"Listen, Ron..."

Madelyn smiled and said a few more things.

Walking out of the vice president's office, Ron understood the implication in Madelyn's words. Edgar intended to bring him into upper management.

So he'd revealed Vought's darkness to him—things outsiders couldn't see—and now wanted him to personally cover it up, as a test or a token of loyalty to see if he could become one of them?

"Getting into Vought's upper management—can I find out their trump card against Homelander?"

Walking down the hallway, he pondered silently.

As long as Vought's higher-ups weren't idiots, they'd created a monster capable of destroying the world in Homelander, so they must have some contingency to deal with him.

"A clone of Homelander? A superhuman with stronger abilities? Or something that suppresses the powers awakened by Compound V?"

Several guesses flashed through Ron's mind.

Only by figuring this out could he find a way to take control of the behemoth that was Vought.

"Leave that Kimiko for now. Something more important is happening on the other side of the ocean—can't afford to mess that up."

He sneered, then used teleportation to vanish from the spot.

"How did it go?"

The phone picked up, and Edgar's steady voice came through on the other end.

"Sir, Ron agreed."

Madelyn reported from behind her desk.

"When you told him about the company's rather brutal secrets for an outsider, how did he react?"

The real issue here wasn't whether Ron would agree.

"She didn't seem to care much."

After a moment's thought, she said.

Somewhat indifferent, her expression barely shifting.

"Oh? That's good, then."

Although Vought had over two hundred superheroes under its banner, he didn't want Ron to develop that naive, laughable superhero personality.

Ron had been getting close to that innocent girl who'd dreamed of being a superhero since childhood, which worried him.

"This also proves, in a worst-case scenario, Starlight probably can't rein him in."

"Yes."

Phone in hand, Madelyn nodded carefully in agreement, reexamining herself.

"Just a girlfriend who can be swapped out at a moment's notice.

Yesterday, I didn't think it through."

"Alright, let's drop this."

The voice on the other end cut her off, speaking slowly.

"I'll discuss it with the board. Once this is done, we'll make him one of us."

Setting down the disconnected phone, Madelyn, in her forties, let out a long breath. She glanced at the nameplate on her desk bearing her vice president title and name, her heart a tangle of emotions.

Ron, who'd only joined the company a few days ago, was about to rank above her.

Over the deep blue waters of the Atlantic, a hundred meters up.

A transatlantic flight from Paris to Chicago had been hijacked by skyjackers.

Four hijackers controlled the entire plane, with unarmed passengers as hostages.

"Everyone shut up. I don't think anyone wants to get hurt, right?"

Two of the hijackers, brandishing knives, coldly warned the screaming, terrified passengers in the cabin.

"Stay in your seats."

They pointed menacingly at the corpse of a flight attendant who'd tried to resist—no better example than that.

Under immense danger, panic spread through the cabin. Men, women, old, and young trembled helplessly.

"God, someone save us!"

Whoosh!

Suddenly, the plane's door was opened from the outside. The pressure imbalance between inside and out created a powerful suction, and one hijacker screamed as he was yanked out.

A heroic, beautiful figure leaped inside.

Another tall, burly hijacker charged in with an angry roar, only to have his neck snapped cleanly.

"Maeve, it's Queen Maeve.

She's here to save us, thank God!"

Inside the cabin, passengers clung to their seats, erupting in excited cheers.

Every time she saved people in danger, seeing the light of hope spark in their eyes at the sight of her, their faces lighting up with surprise—it filled her with joy and satisfaction.

"Alright, everyone stay put. You'll be fine soon."

Maeve tossed her hair, looking dashing and confident, as she strode toward the hijacker guarding the cockpit door.

"Maybe you'll still make it to your destination on time."

The hijacker, seeing Maeve, raised his hands in fear, ready to surrender. He knew Queen Maeve's strength.

But a heat ray pierced through his chest with ruthless precision, killing him.

Homelander flew in, eyes glowing red, a standard smile on his face as he casually closed the cabin door.

"Evil has been punished.

It's all over. You're safe, everyone."

His appearance sparked even louder cheers.

"Homelander!..."

The passengers relaxed further. They'd all read the morning's headlines in newspapers and news sites, witnessing Homelander's godlike power.

"Thank you, Homelander. You saved us. You're a hero!"